Constant Vigilance
by whitetiger91
Summary: The Minister for Magic will not listen to Alison Moody, yet she's determined to get him to see reason about the looming Death Eater threats. When dismissal is threatened, will she give up or make him see the error of his ways? Contains fem!Moody originally written for the 'Bend that Gender' challenge/ competition on the HPFC forum.


**Constant Vigilance**

_**A/N: J. K. Rowling owns everything to do with Harry Potter... be thankful she does and not me lol**_

_**This one-shot of sorts was originally written for the 'Bend that Gender!' challenge/ competition on the HPFC forum. Unfortunately, my word limit went over the 1000 word requirement, so I probably will not be able to enter. Nevertheless, I sort of enjoyed writing a female Mad-Eye Moody, and I hope that it makes sense (again, I have left this unbeta'd until I can find one). I always thought he'd be very tough as a witch and pictured him/ her as a mixed version of Katniss Everdeen from 'The Hunger Games', Jane Lynch's voiced character on the Disney movie 'Wreck it Ralph', and Gretel from the movie 'Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters'. Oh, and I got the information about Minchum and the other Ministers from the Potter Wiki and adjusted to suit this...**_

_**Anyways, I hope this wasn't too horrible... enjoy!**_

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"I'm warning you Miss Moody, you are going too far."

"But Minister, if you would just-"

"Absolutely not! The threat has been contained, and if you have any wish to remain in the running for Head Auror when Felix retires, let alone to stay on the Auror force, I suggest you back down immediately."

Harold Minchum fixed his cold grey eyes on Alison, silently challenging her to continue to argue. She was tempted to accept; she would have even raised her fist to him if it meant that he would take her claims seriously. If only his predecessor, Eugenia Jenkins, had not been voted out- at least she would have understood the imminent threat.

Nevertheless, she wanted to be promoted and sat back down in the rigid chair with a huff, her arms folded tightly across her flat chest. Bitterly, she wondered if perhaps she had a bigger breast size and blonde hair instead of the cropped frizzy brown mop she had, or if her muddy brown eyes were instead a brilliant blue, that he would then be willing listen to her. It was always the same, however, in which none of her colleagues ever took her seriously- despite being able to think quick on her feet and dart amongst shadows undetected, her short height and rather stocky legs meant that none of the boys on the Auror squad took her seriously.

One particular man, Armando Prewitt, often belittled her because of this during missions. Last Sunday, for example, he had commented that she shouldn't arrest a man because she would risk breaking a nail- the scratches across his back soon put a stop to the situation, but only momentarily.

Through gritted teeth, she emitted an audible sigh and began to look around the office. Considering it belonged to the Minister for Magic, the decoration was fairly bare and distasteful. Shimmering purple wallpaper clung to the walls as several posters of Muggle women in tight bathing suits could be seen peeking out from behind the solid oak desk. The Minister himself was sitting on a large sea-green leather chair, but had forgotten to provide his guests with a seat anywhere near as comfortable as his. Even the ornate picture frames of Ministers past had not escaped his attention, where instead of the intricate gold they were usually placed in, ghastly orange plastic now enclosed them.

She bit her tongue from commenting on the disastrous effect it had and looked back to the Minister. The man had resumed scratching away with his quill on various documents, refusing to look up as she cleared her throat.

"Look, all I am saying is that we must be constantly vigilant. I know the organisation calling themselves the Death Eaters are planning something big and their target will most likely be the Ministry- these random deaths and disappearances will stop soon and they will move on to bigger things."

Finally, his wrinkled face lifted and he met her gaze. He appeared to be contemplating what she had said, for he opened his mouth a few times to form his response.

"Perhaps… perhaps you are right. We should up security, maybe add a few more Aurors to this floor on guard duty."

Her heart lifted and a small smile tugged at her lips. Finally.

"Excellent! Who should we put on? I know Amy Bulshaw was injured last week so…"

The relief she felt at her concerns finally being heard made her mind whizz with plans they needed to put in place. She knew a few Aurors close to retiring who would gladly stay in the comforts of the building and was in the process of deciding how to best contact them with their new positions when a monotonous voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Moody?"

"Yes?"

"I was only joking. You are dismissed," the balding man resumed his writing, blatantly ignoring her dumbstruck face.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks; fury taking her body hostage as her hands shook by her sides. She stood up, allowing the chair to topple to the ground behind her with a noisy crash. It took all her strength to not pull her wand from the inside of her leather boot and curse the man before her, who simply raised an eyebrow at her. He was going to allow death and destruction to run rampant in the world just because he was too stubborn to admit she was right.

As she stepped over the threshold to his door, she turned and shot daggers at him from her eyes. A strange smell wafted past her nose as she stood there, but she was too busy yelling to notice.

"You are going to let them win if you don't do something soon! People are going to die, yet you are too bloody selfish to care… you know what? I quit!"

Minchum slowly began to shuffle around in his desk draw and she hoped that he was looking for a new quill and not his wand. Subtly, she bent down in pretence of scratching her leg, her fingers instead closing around the tip of her wand. She was glad she had not stored it in her back pocket like so many of her colleagues did- not only was there a high risk of blasting off her buttocks by doing so, she could easily reach her wand now without detection. Fortunately, he pulled out neither a quill nor a wand and instead took out a metal container of cigars. Fishing out his wand from its actual position on the desk, he lit the tip before looking at her pointedly.

She wanted to slam the door behind her, but a young man who looked on the verge of tears was standing in the hallway and she did not feel like bringing on the frail boy's nervous attack. Instead, she decided to offer him a word of advice, cringing slightly as he jumped at her voice.

"Listen kid, you'd best come back later, that man-" she jabbed a crooked thumb in the direction of the large black door, "-is too pigheaded at the moment to listen to anyone."

The boy looked to her with wide, fearful eyes, almost as though she had said that the wanted to eat him up. She rolled her eyes as he blinked owlishly, looking to the door before taking off a sprint down the narrow carpeted hallway. It was only that the strange smell assaulted her nose again as the boy's black cloak whipped around the corner that she also began running.

Flying into the office, thankful that she had left it open after all, she tackled a bewildered Minchum to the floor. The two struggled on the floor as he yelled for help and kicked out as she tried to pin his arms to his side, his lit cigar flying off into the corner.

His cries were muffled however as not a second later, a large explosion resounded throughout the building, bathing the room in red light from a ball of fire. She echoed his cries as a white hot pain seared up through her right leg, wincing as she was too late in turning her head to the side and caught glass in her eye and nose. Debris covered their bodies, yet she refused to move as a constant ringing filled her ears.

It felt like hours that she remained lying on top of him, barely breathing as she held her eyes squeezed tight. If she didn't move, than perhaps the healers now picking their way through the rubble could save her leg and eye. If she didn't move, than perhaps Minchum would not get up and berate her for not seeing the signs of an attack much earlier.

Still, gentle arms rubbed her back and she was lifted upwards onto a levitating stretcher. She could feel Minchum's presence beside her on another, his breathing ragged. Darkness consumed her and she felt its safe hands caress her as it took away the sight of crimson blood soaking into the crisp white sheets beneath her.

She allowed herself to be drawn deeper into unconsciousness, barely missing the hand on her arm.

"Perhaps we do need constant vigilance after all," a shallow voice wheezed into her ear.


End file.
